


Majesty of a Different Breed

by lumiereandcogsworth



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Everybody is excited about the dog except one person guess who, F/M, Fluff, Summer, Sunsets, What if the castle got a dog!!, cute belle and chip content oh my, this takes place like a couple months post-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumiereandcogsworth/pseuds/lumiereandcogsworth
Summary: “Does she have a home?”Belle pondered the question. It was the same one she’d asked Adam last night, and now she was even more suspicious that the dog did not belong to anyone, though she could not be sure. “I don’t think she does.” Belle rose to her feet, looking to the castle standing tall in the sun. “Let’s see if she’ll follow us inside.”“But, I thought the Master didn’t like dogs inside,” Chip said in a small voice.“You let me worry about him,” Belle assured him.
Relationships: Adam/Belle (Disney), Belle & Chip Potts (Disney)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	Majesty of a Different Breed

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this fic over the last month or so, and I'm very glad you all can finally see it and all the wholesome content it entails! I hope it can be a small slice of joy in the troubled times right now. 
> 
> Thank you to Grace for editing this and making it readable!

Adam had never been too fond of pets. Pets inside the castle, that is. He’d had a beloved horse growing up, but he stayed in the stables outside. Barn cats and hunting dogs traipsed through the castle and its grounds as he had grown up, but little to his liking. He was fine with them if they minded their own business, but he had no interest in them invading his space, even less if they tried to keep him company. He had grown accustomed to Frou Frou, Madame de Garderobe and Maestro Cadenza’s dog, in their many visits to the castle, but only tempered by the understanding that the little fluff ball was to keep close to his maman and papa. 

Since Belle had come into his life, she’d expressed her love of animals in more than one way. Besides the often expressed affection for her beloved Philippe, she’d mentioned a stray dog from the village who she’d feed when it came by, and other tabby cats that had become neighbors in Maurice’s garden. Every time Frou Frou was around, Belle would dote on him as though he were her own. Adam found her attention endearing, but could not bring himself to see the animals’ appeal. Pets were good from a distance, but to get so close? They were dirty and they chewed on everything. They left their paw prints across the floor and they ripped flowers out of the garden. They pawed at vases and ripped up curtains. They caused messes that a young Adam could never afford to cover up with such a ruthless father, the young prince had had enough trouble as it was.

His wife had pleaded for a dog on more than one account, but Adam always shooed the notion aside, in the hopes that she’d relent. In all this time, it had come up less and less, though Belle still made a show of it when they encountered a stray cat on a walk, or when a hunting dog took kindly to Belle before setting off with its pack. She’d look up to Adam with a snide grin, and he’d roll his eyes and walk away, not giving her the satisfaction. And though the conversation never truly seemed to come to a conclusion, there did seem to be an understanding between them. However, Belle would not give up the fight so very easily. 

One summer night, when the air was thick and fires were only ignited for light, not warmth, the pair found themselves as they often did: enthralled in the vast, fictional worlds of their books. Belle was undeniably more entranced than her husband. She was rapidly approaching the end of her book and she just couldn’t see how it could possibly end with so much still to resolve. Adam was only half-heartedly glancing at the pages of his book, passing time until Belle was free and she could be his; his true favorite activity before bed. 

Adam’s eyes scanned the pages, he wasn’t far into the book and he was already losing interest. Adam had no patience for long and dreary beginnings, but it didn’t help that he wasn’t in the mood to read anyway. As he strained to lose himself in the words, a noise in the distance stole his attention. If he were an animal, and he knew very well the feeling, his ears would have perked up at the sound. His attention drawn away from the book, he looked around the room of mostly darkness, save for the few lit candles and the fire still crackling a dull presence. 

He looked up at his wife to see if she had any reaction. It wasn’t a particularly loud sound, but surely enough to be heard by both of them at the top of their tower. “Did you hear that?”

Belle was entirely lost in her novel. Her knees were bent close to her chest and her eyebrows were knitted together. Time had stopped long ago when she had curled up with this book for the night. Until now, until her husband’s disturbance, reality had altogether dissolved around her. “What?” She asked, with irritation in her voice.

Adam shook his head. “Nothing,” he replied, turning back to the book. It was probably just the wind outside, or maybe Lumiere sneaking about the castle for a late night snack. Adam set his focus back on the book, trying to remember where he was. No sooner had he found the last memorable line, had the same sound gone off again. It was like a bang, or a hit. Something clashing with something else. Adam turned back to Belle. “That! Did you hear it?”

“What?” She said again, more agitated than the first time. “No! The only thing I’m hearing is you talking.” Her eyes never left the apparently vastly more interesting subject matter than her husband’s noise concerns. 

Adam rolled his eyes and folded his book closed, sitting up on the edge of the bed, eyes shifting around the room warily. Belle peaked at him for a moment, the sudden movement pulling her from her literary adventure. 

“Do you actually hear something?” Belle asked his back. He replied with dead silence, and she gathered that he was listening for it again. She joined him in the still moment, looking over to the hot orange embers that remained of the fire. 

“There it is again!”Adam declared, turning back to her. “Hear it that time?” Belle shrugged and shook her head, her eyebrows drawing together with slight concern dawning on her face. Her husband stared at her. “Are you messing with me?” 

“No!” Belle exclaimed, coughing out a laugh. Adam narrowed his eyes, unconvinced, his mind tracing back all the little games and tricks she’d played on him before. “I’m not,” she insisted, “I promise. I’m sitting right here, Adam, how could this be me?” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve incited assistance from the staff to fool me,” he grumbled, turning back to the room. Belle chuckled and closed her book, hitting his back with it playfully. Just as she’d made contact with him, the sound went off again, and Adam’s eyes darted to the door. 

“I think I’ll go look around,” Adam said, rising with new, unwavering determination. 

“Wait! I want to come!” Belle insisted, scrambling out from under the covers and collecting her candle. 

“I thought you didn’t hear anything,” Adam retorted, opening his palms. 

“I don’t,” his wife admitted as she wrapped her robe around her. “But I’m not going to pass up a chance to wander around the castle at night.” 

Adam snorted, finding his robe on the chair beside his nightstand and throwing it over his shoulders. “Fair enough, let’s go.” 

* * *

The couple crept carefully in their slippers around the dark corridors of the castle. Belle was always tickled by how lively the place was during the day in comparison with its utter tranquility at night. She’d grabbed Adam’s hand when they’d left their chambers, just because. 

“Do you still hear it?” Belle whispered, seeing only a few paces ahead of them in the candlelight. They passed through moonlit strips of light which spilled onto the floor, but mostly they trusted Adam’s almost blind knowledge of the castle’s layout. 

“No,” he shook his head, looking around with vigilance. “Maybe it was outside?” He muttered to himself, just barely audible enough for Belle to hear him. He was lost in thought, filled with a determination Belle had not seen in him often. 

“It was probably just the wind,” she suggested, still completely unaware of what this sound was or why her husband was so hell-bent on chasing after it at this time of night. 

“I thought so too,” Adam said absentmindedly. He released her hand to unlock the front doors and pull one open as quietly as the ancient and creaky doors could be. He turned back toward the rest of the castle as the sound of an inadvertent squeak of the door’s hinges reverberated into the abyss. “That’s going to wake someone.”

“Cogsworth,” Belle replied knowingly. Cogsworth woke up at everything. He was the last to sleep and the first to rise, always needing to do the final sweep of the castle and the first to set the household in order. 

Adam nodded in agreement, smiling at the old man’s habits. He took Belle’s candle from her and placed their two light sources on the windowsill- the moonlight would be more than enough to guide them outside. He stepped back to the opening, just enough for the pair of them to slip out without much difficulty. The air was cool and crisp, a light breeze running against their exposed skin leaving behind goosebumps. Adam took Belle’s hand again, his eyes scanning searchingly. “It’s not windy enough to have been caused by the wind,” he concluded. 

“It could have been windy earlier,” Belle replied.

“But it wasn’t.”

“Oh, you know this for a fact, do you?”

Adam looked back to her, his serious expression cracking into a soft smile when he saw her playful grin. “Yes, I know everything about the wind,” he quipped, turning his head and leading them down the stairs and around to the exterior of the west wing. The grass crunched gingerly under their slippers as they rounded the tower, the almost-full moon projecting their shadows against the stone. 

Just as their investigation seemed to be for naught, Adam stopped in his tracks, and Belle did too, for the same reason. The sound had erupted again, getting caught in both of their ears this time. They looked at each other at precisely the same moment, exchanging  _ I told you so _ and  _ whatever _ glances before furthering their walk, now having the sound pinpointed. Against the tallest tower of the west wing, a hardy, straggly tree stood tall. It wasn’t all that stocky, young tree as it appeared to be, but it was clearly tough enough to cause a ruckus that echoed all the way up to the master chambers. 

“A  _ tree _ ?” Adam asked, half-astonished, half-disappointed. Belle laughed, untangling their hands moving towards it.

“What were you expecting, a dragon?” She joked, looking over her shoulder. The tree stood still, at first. But it was swiftly pulled at by something unknown, causing the branches to catapult back against the tower, creating the very same noise that had been haunting Adam.

“Not a  _ dragon _ , per se,” Adam mumbled, crossing his arms on his chest. “The real question is, why didn’t you hear it? Are you putting cotton in your ears when you read?” 

Belle laughed. “No,” she called as she proceeded to the tree. “You always hear everything, unless you’re already asleep.” Adam considered this, and he realized she was right. He did seem to hear the littlest things, even when nobody else did. He’d had the heightened sense ever since he was cursed, so he concluded it must be left over from everything. Just as Lumiere’s head still smoked when he was overjoyed, or how feathers would occasionally grow out of Plumette’s hair, or suddenly appear on the skirt of her apron. The curse had indeed been lifted, but quirks that resembled their past, ill-fated selves remained. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, but it certainly made them a unique bunch. 

As Adam pondered the castle residents’ newer way of living, Belle continued toward the tree, noting the way it was being pulled at. Wind didn’t do that, especially when she didn’t feel even the slightest gust against her. She continued to investigate, looking into the greenery around the tree. It wasn’t until then that she noticed some kind of rope, tangled in the branches of the tree. It was pulled taught, and its other end was lost in a sea of near-total blackness.

“I think there might be a dragon after all,” Belle announced, digging into a bush and shoving aside the tall grass. 

“What do you mean?” Adam asked, coming up behind her and peering into the void she’d opened. Quite unexpectedly, out of the dark void leapt a dog, or maybe a hound was a better word, given its size. It jumped straight up into Adam’s face, barely missing him, had the man not stepped back in terror quickly enough. The hound had the rope around its neck, and it pulled on the tree which beat against the tower once more. “Where did that thing come from?” Adam asked, repulsed and a little embarrassed at his reaction to the otherwise seemingly harmless dog. The hound had been freed from the bushes, thanks to Belle, but was still tethered to the branches. 

“Don’t know,” Belle replied, doing very poorly to hide her laughter at her husband’s reaction. She pet at the dog’s grey and scruffy head, in the quick moments that it ran past her. It was big, or rather, it was tall, and noticeably skinny. It ran back and forth, a sudden burst of energy that broke with the calm of the night. She stepped into the circle of the tree’s canopy, the hound now following at her heels, sniffing her invisible trail of footsteps and eventually the hem of her robe. The rope was just out of reach, but with a quick thought of innovation, Belle pulled herself up by another branch, using the bush beside it as a footstool. The dog barked up at her, tail wagging rather playfully.

“Almost done!” Belle assured the scrawny creature as she untangled the rope.

“What are you doing up there?” Adam asked worriedly, stepping closer and braving close proximity to the hound. 

In response, Belle jumped back to the ground, the end of the rope in her hand. But before she could say anything, the dog took off into the night, ripping the end of the rope from Belle’s hand. She stepped closer to Adam, both their eyes fixed on the hound as its dark coat quickly blended with the blackness of the forest in the distance, its racing body getting smaller and smaller in a matter of seconds. 

“How very odd,” Belle said, bemused, eyes shifting between the tree and the dog, or at least, where the dog had vanished into the night. 

“Indeed,” Adam replied. “How did the rope even get tangled up like that?” He walked past Belle, stepping under the tree and studying the branches. 

“Maybe it was the  _ wind _ ,” Belle jested, eyes and smile equally wide with sarcasm. Adam turned and laughed through his nose, shaking his head. Before either of them knew it, they’d both broken into a sprint, Belle shrieking with laughter as Adam chased her. Belle led them back around to the front of the castle at full speed, Adam just catching up to her at the base of the stairs. He wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her up and stopping her from escaping any further. She laughed, playfully wriggling in his arms and turning to face him in doing so. 

“Did you feel that?” Belle asked, breathing hard. “Wind.” 

Adam held her closer, laughing as he, too, tried to catch his breath. “Shut up,” he grinned, leaning down and kissing her. 

The moon was bright in the night sky and neither of them knew what time it was, but their secret adventure had left them both more than ready to fall into a deep sleep. When they returned inside, they noticed that their candles had been blown out. 

“Cogsworth,” they said simultaneously, followed by up-way-past-bedtime giggles. The fireplace in the foyer had long been put out, so the two braved the journey up to their haven in the west wing, almost entirely in the dark once they were past the first few sets of stairs. 

“I wonder where the little fellow belongs,” Belle inquired once they’d made it inside the master chambers. 

_ “Little?” _ Adam questioned, shedding his robe and sitting on the bed in near-complete darkness, sans the moonlight pouring into the room from the balcony on the other end. 

“You know what I mean,” his wife replied, circling the bed and kicking her slippers off, not caring much where they landed. “Think he has a home?” 

“I don’t know,” Adam said dryly. “Good thing it’s none of our concern.” He climbed under the covers, pulling them over his shoulder dramatically. Belle knew how he felt about pets, but she could never cease her badgering about it.

“Sure,” Belle stated, laying her vague and empty agreement over the situation like a tablecloth, knowing they were both too tired to argue about it anyway. She climbed into bed and snuggled closer to him, kissing his cheek. “Goodnight, my very brave dragon-slayer.” 

“Goodnight,” Adam replied, already half asleep. He drowsily kissed her forehead, quickly losing the awareness to fire back at her jest. They fell asleep then, dreaming about dancing under the twilight moon and dragons caught in tree branches. 

* * *

The next day, the sun was shining bright in the sky. Another day of summer heat. Flies cut circles lazily in the stagnant air, bothering anyone who dared venture outside. Belle had fallen victim to the sultry day, but more by choice than anything else. While Adam completed his kingly tasks for the day, Belle never ceased to enjoy exploring the castle grounds. That morning she rode Philippe around the estate. It was cooler at that speed, creating a breeze that made Belle forget about the heat, even if just for a few joyous moments. Now she firmly planted herself under a tree, with shade that made finally finishing her book all the more lovely. Just as final conclusions were being drawn, however, Mrs. Potts interrupted the reverie. 

“Hello, dear!” The housekeeper chirped, coming over with an agonized pace that Belle took to mean she’d rather not be under the sweltering sun. “I thought I’d bring you lemonade since you’re brave enough to be out here,” she said, reaching the glass down to her, then wiping her own forehead with a rag from her apron. 

“Thank you,” Belle smiled, taking a drink and not realizing how parched she was until that moment. The drink had extra honey in it; Mrs. Pott’s special touch and Belle’s favorite. “Are you at least keeping out of this heat?” 

“Trying best I can,” Mrs. Potts sighed, fanning herself with the rag. “Always got to keep myself busy though, don’t I? And poor Chip’s been restless. Wants to race his toy boats in the pond, gets all snippy when I tell him I’ve got work to do. Honestly I wonder why Mr. Potts got him those boats,” she shook her head. “He’s been itching to try them out ever since, and now he won’t do a scrap of folding in the linen room!” 

“I’ll play with him,” Belle offered, rising to her feet and closing her book.

“Oh, no, no, dear.” Mrs. Potts put her hands out, fanning them at Belle, beckoning her to sit back down. “I wasn’t meaning to say anything of the sort! Goodness, I just let myself run off with my thoughts. No, no, you read your book. Chip’ll learn soon enough how to occupy himself. And, you know, I’m sure his father or Plumette could take an hour or two—” 

“I really don’t mind, Mrs. Potts,” she insisted, hugging her book to herself. “He was telling me about those toy boats a few days ago, I told him we could race them sometime.” Mrs. Potts put her hands on her hips, weighing her need for a babysitter against her duty as the housekeeper to keep the queen content.

Belle finished the drink and handed the glass back to Mrs. Potts. “Tell him to meet me on the dock, okay? It’s no trouble, I promise. Thank you for the lemonade,” she smiled, taking her leave and setting off across the garden for the pond before Mrs. Potts could say anything more.

The air was a little cooler near the pond, and Belle was thankful for it. Dragonflies flew low above the water, touching down and kissing the surface for a moment before taking off to new adventures. Belle watched the ripples left in their wake as they expanded and broke against the breeze. 

“Hello, Belle!” uttered a little, but loud voice that could only have been Chip’s. Inside the castle, he was instructed to call Belle and Adam by their titles. But Belle had promised him, even before she’d married Adam, that he could always call her by her name. It had been their special secret ever since. Belle turned to find him racing over to her from the castle, a jumble of variously sized toy boats almost spilling out of his arms as he ran. 

“Hi, Chip!” Belle replied cheerily, sliding herself along the dock’s edge so the boy could sit beside her. He dropped all the boats except one, flopping down next to her and swinging his legs over the edge. Belle noticed he had a little fabric bag on his shoulder. “What’s this?”

“Oh, they’re croissants.” Chip said, sliding the bag off his arm for Belle to open. “Mama wanted me to bring them for us, said she’s thankful you’re out here with me.” 

Belle smiled, peering in and seeing two of Mrs. Potts’ delectable croissants. “That’s sweet of her. Want to eat them now?” 

“Nah, after the race.” His eyes hadn’t much left the toy boat in his hands since he sat down. He was scanning every detail of it, toying with the little parts and fixing the sail. “This one’s going to win,” he stated, smiling up at her.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Belle replied, leaning back and grabbing a boat painted green, slightly bigger than Chip’s. “I’m going to be racing this one.” She held it up fiercely in front of him. He met her gaze with undying confidence in his own red boat. 

“I’ve checked them all, Belle, this one’s the best. The red one always wins.” he stood up, walking over and hopping down to the pond’s grassy shore. Belle laughed and joined him, crouching down as he did to set their boats in the water. 

“It’s not too windy,” Chip analyzed, looking out at the water. 

“A slight breeze,” Belle chimed in. “Might be the perfect day for a race.” The pair of them shared smiles of rather friendly competition, with a bit more emphasis on the latter. 

They set their boats in the water, holding them steady as the water bobbed them side to side. “Ready?” Belle asked.

“Yeah! You count,” Chip replied, excitement building up inside him. 

“Three, two, one, go!” They pushed their boats off and began blowing against their sails so they’d go even further. Chip got up first, running up onto the dock to watch the little flash of red glide across the water. Belle joined him, standing beside him as her boat began to fall behind his. The breeze pushed both green and red, but ultimately Belle’s boat got caught in the mundane wavelets. 

“Yes!” Chip leapt with excitement as his boat took a full yard of distance in front of Belle’s boat. “I  _ told _ you!” 

“You did,” Belle was grinning from ear to ear. Chip ran to the other end of the dock, circling around and climbing into the row boat that was tethered to the post. 

“Let’s go get them!”

“I’m coming!” Belle laughed. She couldn’t believe the energy that Chip had, but she was thankful to be a part of it. She reminisced about her lonely childhood, and all the days she spent without a friend to play with. Maurice was often busy trying to sell his paintings and trinkets or taking care of their garden. And Belle wasn’t allowed at school, of course. When she was too restless to read, she’d find her own adventures around the village, even sometimes scampering as far as the fields that encompassed Villeneuve. She was glad Chip didn’t have to be so lonely. He was the only kid in the castle, but he certainly never lacked people who enjoyed his little antics. 

Belle climbed into the row boat, grabbing the oars and rowing them out to fetch their boats. “We’ve got to race them again,” said Chip eagerly. “I want to see if I can beat them all!” He reached his hand into the water, but quickly pulled it out with a shiver. 

“Is it cold?” 

“Freezing! How can it be so cold when it’s so hot out here?” 

“I think because it’s deep,” Belle reasoned, rowing them farther from the dock and closer to their stray boats. 

Chip looked over the side of the row boat to find his own faint reflection looking back at him in the shining water. “How deep?”

“I’m not sure. Oh! Here comes your boat.” The little red boat had made its way to them, knocking against the row boat. Chip reached down and fished it out, shaking the water off. Soon they were near the green boat, and Belle reached over to retrieve it. “It’s as deep as the castle is tall,” Belle answered with a whimsical look in her eyes. 

Chip looked up at her with wide eyes, glancing over to the castle. “That’s a lot!” 

Soon the pair of them returned to the shore. Chip had gotten hungry, so they took a break to eat the flakey croissants Mrs. Potts made for them. The summer breeze blew against their faces as their feet dangled on the end of the dock. As they ate, Chip told Belle every little thought that crossed his mind, everything he’d been doing in the time since he’d last spoken to Belle (which really was only yesterday). He talked about all the games his father had been teaching him, how much he’d been doting on him since he remembered again. He talked about how much he liked running around, and how little he liked it when Cogsworth told him to slow down (“I don’t think he likes fun very much”). He told Belle about the dream he had last night, about what his toy soldiers have been fighting about, and all the many times he’d managed to hide in a cupboard and pop out and scare Lumiere (“It’s sort of nice I can still fit in the cupboards!”). 

Belle beamed at him. This child who she’d met as a rambunctious little teacup, was now properly a little boy again. She could have listened to his stories for hours, had he not been interrupted by something scuffling with his pile of toy boats behind them. 

“Hey! Get away from those!” Chip called when he turned to see the culprit. Belle couldn’t believe her eyes, it was the same hound from the night before. She had almost thought she’d dreamed that, so seeing it in front of her was a bit jarring. The boy got to his feet and started shoo-ing at the dog. 

“Wait, Chip, it’s alright,” Belle stood and put a hand on his shoulder. The hound had ceased its sniffing and was now standing there, facing them with a curious look. Belle crouched down, putting her hand out. “Come here, come,” she beckoned. The dog sauntered over to her, dragging the rope that was loose around its neck as it came over. First, it sniffed Belle’s hand, giving her knuckles a quick lick before moving over to study Chip. The young boy glanced at Belle, giving her a cautious look. The only dog he’d really ever been around was Frou Frou, and this dog was three times that pampered pup’s size. A tall, lanky creature with wiry, grey fur, the hound was solemn on the dock as it sniffed and sniffed. Belle hadn’t seen it so clearly in the moonlight, but here in the sun she could see it was a beautiful animal; mangy and a little ancient looking, but majestic in its own right. Belle gave Chip a reassuring smile, putting her own hand out to pat the dog’s head first. The dog obliged, wagging its tail lazily. Chip worked up the bravery and put his hand out, too afraid to reach any further. The hound, however, was willing to make the effort. It bowed its head toward Chip, placing its snout under his hand. 

Belle watched as a careful smile grew on the boy’s face, and soon he was stroking the dog’s long nose all on his own. “Where’d she come from?” Chip asked Belle, growing more comfortable with the creature. 

“I don’t know,” she replied, scratching behind the hound’s ears and realizing that yes, the hound was in fact a lady. “I’ve seen her here on the grounds once before, she was trapped and we set her free.” She took the rope in her hands, remembering it from when she’d untangled it from the branches, when it was ripped away as the dog sped into the night.

“Does she have a home?” 

Belle pondered the question. It was the same one she’d asked Adam last night, and now she was even more suspicious that the dog did not belong to anyone, though she could not be sure. “I don’t think she does.” Belle rose to her feet, looking to the castle standing tall in the sun. “Let’s see if she’ll follow us inside.” 

“But, I thought the Master didn’t like dogs inside,” Chip said in a small voice. The boy was young, but he’d observed Adam’s hard opinions all his life. 

“You let me worry about him,” Belle assured him. They gathered the croissant bag, now with Belle’s book inside, and all of Chip’s toy boats (now easier to carry in four hands instead of two). The pair set off through the gardens back to the castle. The hound sniffed at their heels the entire way. Chip looked back at her every few seconds in curious amusement. 

When they reached the stairs, Belle handed the rest of the toy boats to Chip, taking the rope like a leash. “You go on, I’m going to take her to the stables, first, get her some water.” 

“Hey,” came a voice from the top of the stairs. They all looked up, even the dog. It was Adam, and he had a look of astonishment on his face, as though he, too, thought last night had been a wild dream. “Is this the same dog?” He made his way down the stairs, eyes shifting pointedly between the dog and his wife. 

“It is,” Belle answered, sharing his astonishment. 

“She came over to the dock when we were racing my boats,” Chip offered, showing all his toy boats to Adam. 

“You have a great many a boats, I see,” Adam replied, smiling at Chip. He leaned down closer, lowering his voice. “You did win the race, right?” 

Chip nodded, flashing a smile. Adam patted his head. “Good,” he replied, standing up straight again. “The queen gets a little competitive if she starts winning,” Adam jested, flashing a smile at her. She grinned, shaking her head. 

“I had no chance,” Belle admitted, putting a hand on Chip’s shoulder. “He picked the red boat. The red one  _ always _ wins.”

Chip nodded excitedly, shuffling his toy boats to show Adam his prized boat. “It’s true! She’s the fastest out there! Well, at least to the green one. We didn’t get to racing the others because I got hungry... But she’s still the fastest, I know it!” 

The king chuckled, amused by Chip’s excitement. “Well, we’ll have to finish those races. Another day, yes?” Chip agreed with a toothy smile.

“Yeah! And maybe we can bring the dog, too,” he said, looking over at the hound who had sat down amongst their inattention. “She’s real nice. Doesn’t bark as much a Frou Frou,” Chip tried to reason. Belle stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, a silent thank-you in his sweet effort to make the dog seem more appealing to Adam. 

“An advantage indeed,” the king replied. “Chip, why don’t you run along inside? I believe your maman was looking for you.” The boy nodded, smiling up at them. He gave each a little bow and made his way up the stairs, careful not to let his toy boats spill over. 

“Now,” Adam said, turning his attention to the dog. “What do we have here?” 

“Okay, so, I know you don’t want the dog inside, but—”

“Belle, how do we even know this hound is free for the taking?”

“We don’t, really.” She looked down at the dog, who looked back up at her. Belle crouched down and pet the dog’s head. “But she’s so sweet, Adam. And she found me! She walked right onto the dock and came over to me and Chip. I think it’s a sign.” 

Adam narrowed his eyes, looking out to the gardens for a moment, then back to his wife. “Dogs wander, it doesn’t mean it’s a sign.” 

“It’s  _ completely  _ a sign,” she stroked the dog’s scruffy head. “A pond is much deeper than what we see on the surface,” she said meditatively. “And look how calm she is! She likes being here.” She concluded, rising and meeting her husband’s eyes.

“Deep pond metaphor or not, Belle, I can  _ see _ fleas on her. I mean look at her, really. She’s not coming inside.” 

“We could wash her!” 

“That would require taking her inside,” Adam put his hands on his hips. Belle looked around, hearing a horse whinny in the distance.

“What if we kept her in the stables,” she suggested. “She’s outside, with the horses, not getting her fleas anywhere.” 

Her husband exhaled sharply, tossing over the idea in his head. “Fine,” he agreed. Belle skipped toward him, a smile across her face. 

“Wonderful!” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll take her there now.” She twirled, getting the dog to rise to her feet and wag her tail in the sudden excitement. Belle set off for the stables, picking up speed with the hound joining her. Adam couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, wondering why this little creature had seemed to attach itself to Belle so quickly.

* * *

A whole day had gone by since the hound had made herself comfortable in the horse stables. Adam went with Belle to check on her for the night (standing in the doorway while she administered affection). The dog’s first day with them had come and gone without much fanfare, at least from where Adam stood. That next day he found himself once again in his study, doing his tasks. He strode across the room in search of a particular book from his shelf. The sunlight was pouring in through his open windows, and though the room was well-visited, one could see the dust hanging in the air. Adam’s study was far more  _ alive _ than his father’s ever was. For starters, it was an entirely different room. And unlike everything his father’s study had been (dark, dreary, and always full of scolding and yelling), this room was sunny and inviting, just as much as it was a place of refuge and confidence for the new king. 

Adam checked his pocket watch and glanced at the door. This was usually the time Lumiere came by for a mid-day conference. Adam didn’t think much of it, though, assuming his appointed valet would be there soon. Time passed. Adam revised treaties, reread old statutes, and signed documents galore. Lumiere still hadn’t made an appearance. Once Adam was finished with most of his work, he decided to investigate the rest of the castle to see if he could find what was keeping Lumiere— Plumette, most likely, in which case Adam hoped he would not find them. He set off in search nonetheless. Perhaps Cogsworth knew of his movements, or maybe Mrs. Potts had seen him dancing about. 

When Adam reached the foyer, after checking the kitchen, library, and even servant’s quarters, he had discovered that everyone seemed to be missing. All his head staff had vanished before his eyes, and not even the lower footmen and maids knew where they’d run off to. He couldn’t even find his own wife, though he assumed she was in her workshop tinkering with her projects, or perhaps outside reading and enjoying the beautiful day. It then occurred to him that he hadn’t checked outside the castle, though he couldn’t quite perceive what would steal everyone away. When he looked to the front door, he noticed it was slightly ajar, with not even Chapeau beside it to greet with a friendly face. With a bit of curiosity, Adam stepped outside into the sun, immediately squinting at the brightness. He looked right and left, listening for any bit of his staff. Soon, he’d caught the sound of joyous laughter belonging to Mrs. Potts. He followed the noise and began to hear more, following the laughter and talking all the way to the horse stables; where he found everyone was playing with the dog. 

Adam stood in the entrance of the stables, eyeing everyone’s back. The hound was up on her feet, tail wagging and panting happily, bouncing around in some kind of playful stand-off with Chip. The two chased each other, and everyone giggled at the sight. Lumiere was sitting on a bale of hay, reaching out and distracting the dog for a moment with a stick in his hand. Plumette was standing beside him, a smile across her face as the dog couldn’t decide who to focus on, as Chip kept playfully tugging at her tail when she was turned around. Mrs. Potts was standing on the other side, laughing her unmistakable laugh. Even Chapeau and Cogsworth were standing against the stone wall, vaguely amused and enjoying the shade. It was Belle, sitting on the ground between Chip and Lumiere, grinning as the dog ran in circles, who first caught her husband’s eye. 

“Adam!” Said his wife, sending a chill over everyone in the otherwise warm barn. “Come to visit the dog?” 

“Actually, I’ve come to see where everyone went, the castle was a little too quiet,” he said, looking around shiftily before stepping in further. 

Cogsworth was first to straighten up, fumfering to gather the rest of them. “You’re quite right, Master. We should be off.” He and Chapeau clamored for the door, just as Mrs. Potts put a hand on Chip’s shoulder to herd him out. 

“Oh! Master, our meeting!” Lumiere said, bolting up from the bale of hay with his pocket watch in hand. “I will meet you in the study,” he said, rather fleetingly as he grabbed Plumette’s hand and the pair of them whisked out of the stables. 

“She’s a beautiful dog,” Plumette managed to say to Adam before they were out of sight. “Very sweet!” 

“Do you like her?” Chip asked, innocently enough with his mother’s hand still on his shoulder. Adam looked over to him; a sweet, young face that Adam could never seem to lie to. 

“She’s a fine animal,” the king exhaled in resignation. 

Mrs. Potts and Chip left the stables, and Adam could hear them talk as they walked out. “I’m glad they kept that dog. She’s the best!” Came Chip’s little voice. 

“Yes, deary, very playful.” One could hear the sound of a hand swiping against fabric. “You’ve gotten yourself all filthy, Chip, rolling around on the ground. Go wash yourself before you help with the linens…” Their voices grew farther away, and then it was just two in the stables: Belle and Adam. Well, and the dog, who’d let go of any further hope of playing and was laying at Belle’s feet. 

“Seems as though you’ve enchanted everyone with this creature, haven’t you?” Adam said, a knowing smile on his face. Belle stepped over the hound, who was panting with exhaustion. 

“So what if I have?” Belle, too, had a smile on her face, one of a more devious nature. 

“I know what you’re doing,” Adam put a hand on his hip. “You’re making everyone fall for this mutt, so she’ll  _ have _ to stay inside.” 

Belle gave him a false look of surprise. “What! I would never dream of doing something like that.” She slid her arms around his waist, creeping closer against him. Adam held his ground, for the most part. 

“Yes, you absolutely would,” he looked to the side, grinning. “Have you forgotten who the clever one is between the two of us?” 

Belle smiled, putting her hand to his face and turning him back to her. “No, you make it very easy to remember who that is.” 

Her husband laughed, shaking his head and stepping away from her grasp. “You see? It’s comments like that which will lead to the hound never coming inside.” He turned, beginning to leave. Belle grabbed his hand, pulling him back.

“No! Adam,” she said in a mock pout, “look at her.” 

The dog was still laying on the ground, resting her chin against the bunches of hay that had gathered together in all the rowdiness. She looked up at them with an endearing charm that had very easily mesmerized the entire staff and Belle. Adam saw the sweetness in her eyes for a moment, nearly allowing himself to melt the way everyone else had, but soon he saw the filth, the chaos, the vases breaking, and the paw prints all over the marble floors. He looked back to Belle, who was watching with anticipation to see if a connection would form. 

“Is it truly so important that she stay inside? Is she not happy enough here?” 

“When there are people around, of course she’s happy. But she was alone all night and some of the day! Adam, even the horses have each other.” 

“And she has the horses!” Adam replied, gesturing to Philippe and his companions who were chewing hay absentmindedly in their stalls. 

“You know well enough that horses and dogs don’t get along the same way people and dogs do.” Adam looked to the side in thought as Belle continued. “She’s a social animal! And everyone likes her anyway, so she’d get taken care of.” 

“Why is she our responsibility to take care of at all? What if she has someone searching for her?”

“If she does, and they come asking for her, wouldn’t they like to be assured that she was  _ safe in the castle _ while she was away?” Adam didn’t entirely care about the opinions of these hypothetical dog owners. If anything, he thought, they should be grateful that she was taken in at all. But Adam’s wife had a bigger heart than that. She had compassion for everyone, it seemed, and he was constantly learning how to understand it; even if directed toward such a mangy dog. 

“Alright,” he sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. His younger self would have never believed how he could fold so easily like a house of cards, but love does strange things to the heart. “She can come inside. But!” He put up his finger to stop Belle, who was already jumping up and down, getting the hound to raise her head and beat her tail against the floor. “She has to stay out of the way. Servants’ quarters, kitchen, she can sleep in the dining room at night. I don’t want her mucking up the rest of the castle, and she definitely can’t go in the library, or our room—” 

Belle threw her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him excitedly. “Thank you!” Adam’s face softened into a smile, wrapping his arms around her. “And don’t worry,” Belle said, leaning back in the circle of his arms. “I won’t tell anyone what a softie you are.” She smiled, Adam rolled his eyes. 

“I suspect they already know, given that the dog is still around at all.” He rested his eyes on her, a content smile across his face. “That’s okay, though. I believe it’s the price I pay for loving you.” 

“Oh, I make you soft, do I?” 

“You remind me I have a heart.” They shared sweet smiles in each other’s embrace. 

“You do have a heart,” Belle said, putting a hand on his chest. “Even if you still won’t let her roam free around the castle.” 

A fire lit in Adam’s eyes, he pointed at the dog with his hand accusingly. “Belle, she could—!” 

“I’m joking! I’m joking,” Belle laughed, reaching up and kissing his cheek to placate him. “Thank you, really. She’ll be entirely happy where she’s allowed. I’ve no doubt.” 

“She had better be,” her husband replied, still eyeing the hound coolly. Belle smiled up at him, then turned to look at the dog as well, with a much friendlier gaze than her husband’s. The hound had brought herself up to a seated position, calmly wagging her tail to see if either of them would give her attention. Belle melted and followed her beckoning eyes, breaking out of Adam’s arms and walking over to her, falling to her knees and scratching the dog’s head. 

Adam smiled at the sight, finding it sweet while still tensed at the idea of actually petting the dog. “Alright, I’d better go meet with Lumiere, if he actually made it to my study. You two enjoy yourselves.” 

“We will!” Belle called to him, flashing a smile as he left the stables. He walked back up to the castle, trying to assure himself that his newest castle guest would be absolutely no trouble at all.

* * *

Days had gone by and the castle staff had fallen quickly into the rhythm of living around the presence of the dog. She was a curious being, sniffing at the hem of every maid’s skirt and the buckle of every footman’s shoe as they passed by her. She was quiet, content, peaceful; almost like she was always meant to be there. Chip had finally found a playmate in the hound, as he had loved her from the moment she offered her snout to be pet. After Belle regaled Chip with the story of the first night they had happened upon the hound, and how she sped off into the dark forest, Chip had taken to calling the dog Sylvie, and that had been her name ever since. 

That was at morning breakfast, the first day Sylvie was allowed inside, tucked away in the servants’ quarters. Chip was (supposedly) helping serve the food to Belle and Adam. Cogsworth huffed in the background, knowing full well that even though they’d allowed the dog to stay in the castle (something Cogsworth was highly opposed to from the beginning), Chip should at the very least let the royal couple eat in peace. That was days ago. Now, night had fallen on the castle with another bout of moonlight streaming across the marble floors from the upper windows. Sylvie had gotten comfortable with her routine: lounging in the servants’ quarters during the day, having excursions to the courtyard with Chip and Plumette, taking naps in the kitchen where the stone floor was cold enough in the heat (and had leftover food for when she woke up), spending nights in the dining room, and curling up under the table or (if the night had a chill) in front of the fire. 

No one had come searching for her, as Adam had hoped. He’d even made a point of asking the royal guards outside if they’d seen anybody. It’s not that the dog had really affected his life much; their paths never crossed. Belle, of course, would take time out of her day to visit Sylvie, sometimes joining Chip and Plumette with her outside if the day allowed. Everyone seemed to be all the happier (even begrudgingly so, in Cogsworth’s case) for the dog’s presence, so Adam was content. Still, though, he had his boundaries, and Belle knew this. Sylvie wasn’t permitted in the library (“those books have been  _ well _ preserved”) or in the ballroom (“the floor design does not call for spots of dog slobber”) and certainly  _ not  _ the master chambers. This one didn’t come with an explanation, though Belle knew her husband well enough to know he didn’t like his  _ things _ to be  _ scuffled with. _ She could never quite figure him out; his desk in the study was always a disaster, but God forbid even the slightest thing was out of place in their room.

Despite the filling dinner they’d shared in the dining room, Belle found herself peckish before bed. She escaped from the top of the west wing into the dark corridors, a candle in hand and a hint of wonder in her eyes, leaving Adam reading sleepily in bed. The queen crept down the stairs, the flame of her candle waving side to side as her slippers tapped against the steps. Soon she was in the foyer, standing calmly in the looming darkness. It reminded her of the first night she’d arrived in the castle, though this time there was an ever-growing comfort that she felt in this place. When she had first arrived, this very scene had given her an insurmountable level of both fear and curiosity, the former mainly for the state of her father. Now she knew this as a place of happiness, warmth, and comfort; it was, after all, her home. 

Belle curled around to the dining room, planning to walk through it to get to the kitchen, where surely Cuisinier had left a roll or two, perhaps a pastry to satisfy her hunger. What Belle hadn’t planned for was Sylvie waking at the sound of the door opening, or the exuberant way her ears perked up and tail began to wag when she realized who it was. 

“Hi, Sylvie,” Belle whispered, stepping over to her and giving her a well-deserved scratch behind the ear. The hound’s tail wagged even more, and she licked Belle’s cheek a few times before Belle laughed, pushing her away. “I’ve just come for a snack, you stay here.” 

Belle stood up, much to Sylvie’s dismay, and headed for the kitchen. The hound stayed as she was told, but her eyes never left the door, hoping Belle would return oh so very soon. By the time the queen had returned, now with a half-eaten roll in her hand, Sylvie had gotten to her feet and was standing at the door in anticipation for Belle. 

“Hey there, girl,” Belle reached down and affectionately patted the hound’s head, her tail wagging cheerily. “You sleeping well down here?” She crouched down, finishing the roll and cupping the hound’s long snout in her hands. 

The dog replied by licking Belle’s nose. Belle scrunched her face, chuckling. “You really are a sweetie aren’t you?” She smiled, ruffling the top of Sylvie’s head before rising and beginning to leave. “I’ll see you in the morning!” 

As Belle put her hand on the door handle, she turned, suddenly noticing that Sylvie had followed her to the door. “Hey you,” she put her hand out, Sylvie sniffed it. “I’d want more than anything to let you come up, but your papa doesn’t want you in our room.” Sylvie cocked her head, confused by the string of words. “Maybe someday, hm?” Belle pulled the door open, and before she could do anything, Sylvie slipped out into the foyer and turned to look up at Belle, proud of herself. 

“Hey! Sylvie, come back in here, come on.” Belle held the door open, gesturing inside. “You can play with everyone in the morning, like always!” But for once, Sylvie didn’t listen to Belle. She quickly turned and bolted for the stairs. “Hey! Wait!” Belle called after her, just now realizing she left her candle in the kitchen but not wanting to waste time, she chased after Sylvie in the darkness. 

On tall, lanky legs, Sylvie ran up the stairs, skipping three steps at a time and not knowing where she was going. Belle did all she could to keep up with the hound, calling after her in her loudest whisper, knowing how strong the echoes were in this place. Almost as though she knew, Sylvie led them right to the top of the west wing, much to Belle’s horror. 

_ “Sylvie!” _ Belle said when she reached her, taking a bit of a motherly, scolding tone. “You can’t be up here, Adam will have a conniption.” She warned, catching her breath with a hand on the hound’s collar. It was a makeshift collar, made from ribbon that Plumette had tied around her neck to replace the dirty rope. It was tied on just after she’d been scrubbed clean in the laundry room, making her look sweet and fluffy and brand new. Belle now held onto that collar, thankful for it. The two of them were in front of the master chambers’ doors, and Belle wondered if Adam could hear their panting.

“Just, stay there. Sit, sit down, Sylvie,” Belle commanded, and amazingly, the hound listened, sitting down with frustration across her long face. Belle slowly let go of her collar, putting a hand on the door tentatively without taking her eyes off of Sylvie. “Just… Stay there…” With the quickness of a cat, Belle pushed open the door, sliding into the room and closed it just as fast, leaving Sylvie outside. 

Adam was standing at the small bookshelf by the fireplace, face turned with eyebrows raised at the haste his wife made to get into the room. “Adam, dear?” Belle asked, voice high and squeaky, both intense and pleading. 

“Yes?” Her husband replied, shelving the book in his hand and stepping over to Belle. She was standing rather hesitantly by the door. 

“Are you  _ quite _ sure you don’t want the dog in here?”

“What? Yes, of course I’m sure.” Adam scoffed at the question, coming closer. His wife had her back against the doors, her hands pressed behind her. 

“Are you really,  _ truly, _ sure though?” 

“Belle, yes, I don’t want that mutt making a mess of this room.” 

“I get that, sure, of course. But, what if, completely hypothetically, she really, for whatever reason,  _ really _ wanted to come in here?” Belle could hear pawing at the door, but she held her eyes on Adam. Before he could make a response, a loud whimper was heard from the other side of the door. Belle turned, then looked back at Adam. He shifted between the door and his wife, his eyes lighting up with that conniption Belle had warned Sylvie about. Another cry was let out from the dog and this time Belle looked back at Adam with well-timed puppy-dog eyes. Adam rolled his, bringing a hand to his face and taking a much needed inhale. Is this what it had come to? One look? He exhaled, wiping his hand down his face and bringing it in a fist to his hip. 

“Ugh, fine. But Belle please just—” Belle had already opened the door, Sylvie bolting through the opening and racing around the room at once. Adam watched her run around, darting from point to point, sniffing every bit of the area with a high energy he had not seen on the hound since the night she’d excitedly introduced herself to him. Almost immediately, Sylvie found a book on a chair and had taken it upon herself to carry it in her mouth. She continued running around the room, and, almost as though cartoon exclamation points had appeared above Adam’s head, he gestured out to the sight. “Ah! Belle!” 

“I’ve got it, it’s okay!” Belle ran over to Sylvie, amazingly able to stop her by the collar and take the book from her. The dog sat down in a sudden and total obedience toward Belle, allowing her to pet her head as she knelt down in front of her. “Good girl,” Belle said. 

Adam watched, relieved and astonished all at once. His wife continued to praise the dog, petting her all over until the spindly creature had fallen to her side, allowing a stirring belly rub that left Belle laughing and Sylvie moving all her limbs in excitement. “She really likes you, doesn’t she?” Adam asked, stepping closer behind Belle. 

“Seems so,” Belle chuckled as the hound tried to sit up and lick her face more. Adam dropped down to his knees, carefully and still far away enough that Sylvie couldn’t lick his clothes or face wet. 

Just as Adam had come to her level, Sylvie rose from her playful state on the floor, eyes on the king. They stared at each other, trying to size the other up. She walked over to him, her head low and her steps gentle. When she reached him, she didn’t move. Her head remained low and she stood in front of him as though it was his move next in this solemn exchange. Adam looked to Belle tentatively and she replied with an encouraging nod. Her husband looked back at the dog, who was watching him expectantly. He then reached out, ignoring every urge to back away, and patted the dog’s head. The feeling was as wiry and coarse as Adam had expected, though softer than he would have imagined. He was like a child petting a dog for the first time, hesitant and unsure as ever. He let the resistant urge to pull away pass, seeing the hound’s happy response to the attention. Her eyes lit up, she began panting which made it look like she was smiling at him, and her tail wagged as it always seemed to. A smile began creeping at Adam’s lips as he let his hands pet all over Sylvie’s scruffy head: the top of her head, under her chin, and that perfect spot behind her right ear that made her back leg thump against the floor. Belle could almost see Adam’s reservations melt away as he grew more comfortable. 

She slid closer to the pair of them, now both seeming to enjoy each other’s company. “Hm, seems she likes you, too,” Belle jested, reaching out and petting the hound’s back. 

“Seems so,” Adam smiled. The hound slid to her side again, letting Belle and Adam spoil her all at once. 

* * *

In the following weeks, the castle would grow all the more warmer with the presence of one very spunky and playful hound. Adam soon relaxed his rules about where Sylvie could be in the castle. It seemed that once the pair of them bonded that night she’d sneaked upstairs, there was no separating them thereafter. Belle happened upon the pair of them many times throughout the day, often finding Sylvie curled up under Adam’s desk while he worked. Adam was most certainly still strict about the consistency of bathing her, and making sure a footman was at the door to clean her paws before she came inside, but besides that, it seemed the royal pup had quite successfully squirmed her way into everyone’s hearts. 

When Maestro Cadenza and Madame de Garderobe visited between concerts in Spain and Italy, Frou Frou and Sylvie were quick to become friends‒ or, were they enemies? It was never quite certain what those two were up to. Often they’d chase each other around the gardens or the large hallways of the castle, and quite frequently Chip was racing after them, giddy as a boy could be. 

After dinner, as the sun was beginning to set, Adam and Belle decided to go for a walk around the gardens. This, of course, included Sylvie, who trotted ahead of them as the pair talked and talked. When the couple decided to stop and sit, leaning up against one of the bigger trees where they had an excellent view of the sunset, Sylvie plopped down at their feet, resting her head on her paws. 

“She really is a loyal thing, isn’t she?” Adam noted as he draped his arm around Belle’s shoulders. 

“Truly. It’s a wonder she ever left wherever she came from in the first place.” 

“Perhaps she knew she was destined for a life of royalty,” Adam joked in a mockingly snobbish tone that came a bit too easily to him. 

Belle laughed. “She spends the day rooting around in bales of hay and running through dirty fields, but sure, she’s the picture of aristocracy.”

“Oh, don’t remind me how filthy she gets herself,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I take every precaution I can.” He looked at the hound with tired eyes, as if he spent his whole days worrying over her every move while still seeming to adore her nonetheless. 

“You do a great job,” Belle leans off of him, meeting his eyes. “I’m sure she’s happy to oblige your very neat standards. I know I’ve come to,” she jested.

“You are far better than she is. I was never worried about you.”

“With a million maids whirling around the castle it’s a wonder you worry at all.” Belle looked to the side and noticed a stick. She reached over Adam and grabbed it, turning to the dog. “Sylvie! Look!” Belle waved the stick in her hand, Sylvie’s head perked up as her eyes locked on her new prey. Belle threw it, and Sylvie got up at once, chasing after it. 

“There are not  _ a million _ maids. There couldn’t be more than thirty under Plumette’s charge, and even then—” 

“I’m joking, Adam!” Belle chuckled. “It’s all very well.” Sylvie returned with the stick in her mouth, trotting between her adopted parents and dropping it on Adam’s lap. He grimaced at the soggy stick staining his breeches and quickly threw it even farther in protest. 

“Well, good.” He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’ve allowed the dog into our lives, haven’t I? What qualms could you possibly have with me now?” 

Belle laughed, leaning into his hand for a moment. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll think of something.” They exchanged snarky smiles before Belle turned, returning to the comfort of leaning against Adam. Sylvie came back, this time dropping the stick on the ground by Adam. He picked it up and threw it again. The pair of them relaxed against each other, watching as pinks and purples painted the sky and the sun escaped from view on the horizon, with the moon taking her place, casting serenity on all those she shone upon. 


End file.
